breakfast the morning after their arrival, could scarcely eat for watching
the scene outside.

Gay little pleasure boats flashed back and forth on the sparkling water.
The quay and bridge were thronged with people. From open windows down the
street came the tinkle of pianos, and out on the pier, where a party of
tourists were crowding on to one of the excursion steamers, a band was
playing its merriest holiday music.

Far away in the distance she could see the shining snow crown of Mont
Blanc, and it gave her an odd feeling, as if she were living in a
geography lesson, to know that she was bounded on one side by the famous
Alpine mountain, and on the other by the River Rhône, whose source she had
often traced on the map. The sunshine, the music, and the gay crowds made
it seem to Lloyd as if the whole world were out for a holiday, and she ate
her melon and listened to the plans for the day with the sensation that
something very delightful was about to happen.

"We'll go shopping this morning," said Mrs. Sherman. "I want Lloyd to see
some of those wonderful music boxes they make here; the dancing bears, and
the musical hand-mirrors; the chairs that play when you sit down in them,
and the beer-mugs that begin a tune when you lift them up."

Lloyd's face dimpled with pleasure, and she began to ask eager questions.
"Couldn't we take one to Mom Beck, mothah? A lookin'-glass that would play
'Kingdom Comin', when she picked it up? It would surprise her so she would
think it was bewitched, and she'd shriek the way she does when a
cattapillah gets on her."

Lloyd laughed so heartily at the recollection, that an old gentleman